Solstice
by insaneprincess
Summary: "You're right," she says. "I went through boy after boy, and never pursued anything. But that was because none of those boys were you." / Victoire and Teddy, from first year to that fateful kiss at King's Cross, and everything in between.


A/n- alright, so this is my first ever TeddyVictoire piece. To be honest, I don't know the age difference between them. However, since he was born during the war/right before, and she was born a year to the day after the war ended (I think I'm right on these, but I might not be) I gave them a two year age gap. If that's wrong, sorry in advance, but it's sort of important in the story, so I can't change it :s so if it's not two years, pretend it is for this story :)

Also, I, of course, do not own Harry Potter.

Read, enjoy, and please review :)

* * *

><p><span>Solstice<span>

* * *

><p>She plays with her hair on the train ride there, but he sits beside her grinning. He has older friends he should probably be sitting with; after all, he's seen her all summer. But maybe he can sense that she's nervous.<p>

"Teddy?" she whispers.

"Vic?" he grins.

"What if I'm not put in Gryffindor?"

Teddy shakes his head, smiling. "You will be."

She looks up at him with big eyes, all fear and eleven-year-old trust. "How can you tell?"

He grins at her, and throws his arm around her shoulder. "I just can."

* * *

><p>She's shocked when she finds him out on the grounds, underneath a tree, looking like he's been crying. He's fourteen, so much older than her, and braver, and certainly not a crying boy under a tree. She's twelve and hesitant. She doesn't know how to handle crying people.<p>

"Teddy?" she whispers.

He jumps at her voice, but doesn't wipe away the tear tracks, or move away. "Hey, Vic."

She sits beside him hesitantly. She waits a long moment, but he doesn't speak. "What's wrong?" she finally asks.

He doesn't answer.

She bites her lip. She doesn't know how to handle the silence, so she does what she understands, humour. She tickles him in the side mercilessly.

He falls over laughing and begging her to stop. She grins at him beside her. He looks happier, more like himself.

"So," she smiles. "Will you tell me?"

He sighs. "Sometimes," he says quietly. "I don't know who I am."

She looks at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not a Weasley or a Potter, even though I pretend like I'm one. And I don't even have a real face Vic; I can just change it into whatever I like. I don't even know how I should look. Maybe I take a bit of my identity with me when I switch hair colours or change noses. Maybe I don't even have an identity."

She looks at him in shock. He looks away from her, towards the lake.

"But you do have an identity. You're you." He raises his eyebrows and she continues. "You know you're a Potter and a Weasley. You don't need a name to prove that. And it doesn't matter what you look like, you're the same person."

He shakes his head. "And who's that same person? Who am I?"

She smiles at him, taking his hand. "You're Teddy Lupin. And you're my best friend."

* * *

><p>She's beautiful.<p>

She's always been beautiful. Half Veela, all long glossy blond hair and huge pale blue eyes, she's always gotten what she wanted just by batting her lashes. Thirteen years old, and she's already got every boy at Hogwarts begging and pleading for Hogsmeade dates with her, showering her with boxes of chocolates and perfumed roses.

All of them but one.

She grinds her teeth together as she watches Teddy kiss that stupid, not-even-that-pretty-like-_come_-_on_, Ravenclaw he's dating, and pretends she doesn't care.

She's never felt like this before, this wanting something that she doesn't have. She's never been jealous before in her life, and she decides that she doesn't like it very much at all.

As she turns back to her own table at the Great Hall and stabs her mashed potatoes viciously, she doesn't see him watch her out of the corner of his eye.

* * *

><p>"I'm just trying to help you."<p>

"Well, I don't want your so called help."

Victoire sidesteps Teddy's lean frame in order to move towards the Transfiguration section. She needs _The Art of Transfiguration: Year Four_, and Teddy is rather in her way.

"He's not good enough for you."

She laughs. "You're so overprotective Teddy, you'd say that about anyone."

The muscles around his mouth tighten. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Maybe I would. Maybe it's true."

His words send a shiver through her like no one else's but she ignores it. "Listen," she says, bringing the conversation back to its initial subject. "It doesn't matter. Robert's a really nice guy, and really good-looking, and he really likes me. And I have fun with him." She brushes past him, and runs her fingers along the Transfiguration books, looking for the right one.

Teddy shakes his head, his mouth a line. "You don't look like you have fun with him."

"Well, I do."

"Vic, you don't even laugh when you're around him. You deserve to be with somebody who makes you crazy happy, and reckless, and free, and makes you step out of your comfort zone. Somebody fun and real, and someone that'll put you first before everything and everyone, and treat you like a princess."

She looks up. His voice has grown quiet and hard, and there's something begging in his eyes.

She can't look at him, not when he looks like that.

She finds her book, and pulls it off the shelf. There's a heavy silence between them. She traces the title of the book, and forces herself to answer him like there isn't tension, palpable in the air between them.

"Well then," she says dryly, "Who do you suggest I date?"

He doesn't answer her right away. The tension thickens between them, and the only thing she can think of is that she has to get out of here.

She forces herself to laugh, and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Bye, Teddy," she says with a confident smile, and stalks out of the library, leaving Teddy alone in the stacks, frowning.

* * *

><p>It's late and she really should be in bed, but she feels kind of hollow. She wanders the empty corridors without fear. She doesn't care if she gets caught, walking calms her.<p>

Students aren't supposed to be up, and he always tends to do things he isn't supposed to, so she would walk into him, on the third floor, by the Charms room.

"Vic?" Teddy asks, his voice filled with surprise, and a lilt of pleasure. "Why are you up?"

She doesn't respond. She's not sure what to say.

"Vic?" he whispers. His voice is quickly filling with concern. When she remains silent, he wraps his arms around her in a comforting hug.

With her cheek against his strong shoulder, she finally speaks. "I broke up with Robert."

He stiffens immediately, and pulls back. He searches her face in the low light of the torches. "Why?"

She looks at him, feeling warm from his concern and his care, but still empty. "I don't know," she says quietly. "I don't even know."

She has the vague idea that it might have to do with the way Teddy walked her to Potions yesterday, laughing and brilliant, and smiling that smile. But she doesn't say that.

"He did nothing wrong," she says quietly. "He was always so sweet to me, and I didn't even care. I mean, I never cared. I don't think I even liked him."

Teddy wraps her up in his arms again. "He wasn't good enough for you," he murmurs in her ear. She thinks it should comfort her, but it doesn't.

"No," she says quietly. "He was. He was sweet and romantic and I think he might've loved me, and I never even cared. What's the matter with me?"

He holds her tighter. "Nothing's the matter with you. You…" he pauses, clearing his throat. His voice is rough. "You don't get to pick who you love."

She shakes her head weakly. "What if I never find that person?" she whispers. "He was perfectly nice, and I never cared. What if my whole life goes like that? What if I end up alone?"

He rubs her back, and slowly she begins to feel comforted. "You won't," he says. "I promise."

* * *

><p>She's reading on the grounds. She finds Herbology incredibly boring, but OWLS are coming up, and she really needs to get to work. And it's a fresh spring day, she's under her favourite tree, and everything is lovely.<p>

_Splat._

Until that, that is.

She gapes at the mud dripping down the back of her white blouse. She turns her horrified gaze from her clothes to the smirking boy standing casually a few feet away, holding another handful of mud. The second she catches his eye, he pelts the mud at her. She ducks it, and it narrowly misses her shoulder.

"Teddy Lupin," she growls dangerously.

"What is it, Vic?" he asks her, a twinkle in his eye. "Afraid of a little dirt?"

She practically snarls at him. "No."

He grins broadly. Her first mud ball hits him in the cheek. His grin widens.

A full out war begins.

She ducks behind the tree and pelts him in the side, beginning to laugh. Looking offended at the mud on his robes, he gathers a massive handful, and it hits her in the shoulder. As he chases her around the tree, both of them laughing loudly, she turns and hits him in the chest. After a few more moments of mud throwing, Teddy flops on the ground.

"Okay," he laughs. "You win."

She grins. "Of course I do."

He smiles, and gestures for her to sit beside him. She throws herself down beside him, missing the mischievous glint in his eyes until a ball of mud hits the top of her head, from a hand hidden behind his back. As she gapes at the mud trickling down her head, Teddy grins and lies down on the ground with satisfaction, hands behind his head.

"Now we're done," he chuckles.

She admires his closed eyes and long lashes, his strong jaw, his currently teal hair. The familiar curve of his smile, no matter what face he wears.

After a long moment, she lays down beside him.

They get a lot of odd looks from passing students at the mud covered and grinning pair lying in the grass, but they lay there for at least an hour in companionable silence.

* * *

><p>"No," Victoire insists in frustration. "I don't."<p>

Dominique rolls her eyes. "I'm not blind Vic. You like Teddy. And Teddy likes you."

Victoire feels her heart speed up at that, but her face remains impassive. "Teddy and I are friends, Dom."

Dominique's mouth is a line, and her eyebrows are quirked in a way that clearly states that she doesn't believe her. "Mhm. And that's why you haven't seriously dated anyone since fourth year?"

Victoire stops walking down the corridor. "I just didn't want to, that's all."

Dominique puts her hands on her hips, and continues as if she hadn't even heard her. "And even in fourth year, it seemed like you didn't even care about Robert Moore, like you were just doing it because you felt like you should date someone. And since then, it's been what? A ton of dates to Hogsmeade, and making out with random boys, but never anything real. You said yourself that you knew there was nothing serious."

"And I'm not denying that. But that has nothing to do with _Teddy._"

Dominique grins. "Yeah, I think it does. Admit it Vic, he's the one guy you buy Christmas presents for, and the one guy who you can fight with, and the one guy that makes you laugh. Just admit it to me. Or at least to yourself."

Victoire stares at her, shocked by her sister's observations. Sure, those are all true. But just because she's jealous if he hangs out with another girl and just because no other guy can make her feel as happy and free…

"We're… We're friends," insists Victoire weakly.

Dominique turns away, grinning. "Sure you are."

* * *

><p>It takes her all of sixth year to finally agree with Dominique. It takes her all of sixth year, without him there, to recognize what's been in front of her for years on end.<p>

She _loves _him.

Because a whole year apart is horrible beyond words. Because she smiles and dances and _giggles_ when she gets a letter from him (which is almost every other day). Because whenever she sees the other boys at Hogwarts, all competing for her attention, she compares them to him in her head. They don't laugh like him, or smile like him, or tease like him, or hug like him. They aren't Teddy, so they aren't good enough.

And she doesn't know how it took her so long to realize it. But it's true and it's real, and it's so blindingly simple. She's supposed to be with him. He's the one who will treat her like a princess; he's her fairytale.

And maybe it's because he's brave enough to throw mud at her and hold her when she's weak, and doesn't faint at her beauty. Maybe it's because he looks at her with a sort of affection in his gaze, and not lust or jealousy, like everyone else. She's looked for his feelings in his eyes for years, but maybe she's been looking for the wrong ones. It's not lust like all those other boys; it's something like love.

He always promised she wouldn't end up alone.

When the train pulls up to King's Cross at the beginning of summer, he's standing there grinning, hands in his pockets, as lovely as always. It's him she hugs first.

* * *

><p>She hates this moment.<p>

This summer has been the most precious. Now that she knows, deeply inside her, that she can't do without Teddy, she's made every minute of this summer count. Because she's going to suffer another year without him, and despite how wonderful his letters are, they just can't compare to that smile in person.

He can't hold her through a letter.

And she's not sure she can do another year without him. Because last year sucked enough. And she just can't believe that she had so many years there with him that she never fully appreciated until now.

She kisses her parents on both cheeks in farewell, and grabs her trunk. "I'm just going to put this on the train," she says with a forced smile.

Teddy's standing on the sidelines, by her family and the rest of the Weasleys and Potters. He grins at her. "I'll come with you," he says.

Her heart skips. "Okay."

The train's as familiar as always, deep red and warm. He follows her to an empty compartment, and lifts her trunk onto the top shelf for her. She blushes at his chivalry.

Since when does she blush? How does he affect her this much?

As he pushes her trunk further back on the shelf, she realizes just how close he is. She can feel his body heat, and it makes her warm. As his hands slowly come to his sides, he doesn't move away.

He smiles wryly. "I kind of miss this train."

She shakes her head, with a small smile. "You're out in the real world. How can you miss Hogwarts?"

He looks at her deeply. "Some of my best memories are from there. How could I not?"

She turns away and sits quietly on the train seat. He slowly sits beside her. He watches her carefully for a long moment.

"What's wrong?" he asks her quietly. "Why don't you want to go back?"

She looks up in surprise. "How do you know I don't want to go back?"

He chuckles, wrapping a tendril of her blonde hair around his finger. "Because I know you."

She looks into his eyes and knows it's true. No one can read her like Teddy can. He gets her. She looks down into her lap.

He lifts her chin so that they're eye to eye, and raises his eyebrow. "You love Hogwarts. What's wrong?"

She bites her lip. "I just miss you, when I'm at Hogwarts," she says quietly. "It's not the same without you there."

His face softens. She looks away at the tenderness in his eyes. "Vic," he whispers. "I miss you too. But we can always write."

His sympathy angers her for reasons she can't explain. "Sometimes," she says, her voice hard, "writing's not enough."

His brow knits in confusion. "Vic…"

"It's not enough, Teddy! It's not enough to sit there and wait patiently for another update about how curse breaking is amazing, how life is so exciting, how everything in your life without me, is just _wonderful_. It's not enough to write back and pretend I'm happy, and talk about going to Hogsmeade with Joey Miller in desperate, subconscious, _pathetic_ hopes that you're going to be jealous. It's not enough to not get to hug you or see your smile, when all those grown-up, mature, curse breaking, smart, pretty women get to see you and be around you and not have to wait patiently for letters. It's not enough—"

But he cuts her off, in a voice remarkably calm. There's something bright and burning in his eyes that she doesn't recognize.

"Do you think it's easy for me, Vic? Do you think it's enough to write to you, praying that you even care and want to hear from me when you're a million miles away, enjoying school and your last year, with your friends and a million guys who see just how gorgeous you are? Do you think it's easy to hear about Joey Miller? Do you think I really just thought, _'how nice, Victoire has lots of boys that want to be with her'_? Merlin, of course not! I hated them; none of them are good enough for you. How hard do you think it is to go through every day thinking of all the boys giving you flowers and begging for a date? How hard is it to pretend to be happy in every letter, when I miss you so much that I can't even _think_—"

"Then why didn't you ever try, huh? Why didn't you ever ask me to go to Hogsmeade, like every other boy?"

Her eyes are burning with unshed tears, and she's not sure why she feels like crying. Maybe because she's been waiting for this for so long without knowing how or why, and because this could go so right or so terribly wrong, or maybe just because she loves him so much that it's overwhelming.

"Because," he says, sounding exhausted. "I didn't want to be like every other boy."

"What the hell does that mean? I would've said yes to you."

"I know. And we would've gone to Hogsmeade once or twice, and you wouldn't have cared much, and it'd be over. I didn't want that. So I stayed your best friend, because I thought it was the only way to stay in your life."

The fight goes out of her in an instant.

Because maybe he's right. Maybe she needed to grow up a little, to learn to love him, because he wouldn't fall at her feet. But he's wrong too, because he isn't Robert Moore or Joey Miller, and she knows somehow that she wouldn't have let him go.

"Maybe," she whispers. "But maybe not. I've never cared about anybody like I care about you. You're right, I went through boy after boy, and never pursued anything. But that was because none of those boys were you."

He seems frozen in front of her, all huge eyes and a hint of hope in the curve of his mouth. "Vic," he whispers. "I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."

When the smile hits her face, she knows she's never been this happy in her life. She can't quite believe his words, and she wants to tell him that she's loved him for ages too, but before she can open her mouth his lips are on hers.

And it's _perfect._

And she knows she can make it. She can make it through seventh year without him. The memory of this kiss will keep her alive. And the knowledge that this boy will be waiting on King's Cross platform in June, and will kiss her just like this again and again and again.

And he pulls away for just a second to look deeply into her eyes with the happiest expression she's ever seen. As she catches her breath, she whispers to him, "I love you too."

And it's true. And it doesn't matter what face he wears, because her love for him is deeper than his skin. Because no matter what colour his hair is, and no matter what shape his nose is; no matter whose eyes he wears, he will always look at her like that; with an expression so purely loyal and caring that it takes her breath away. And she knows that no one else will ever look at her like Teddy does.

And as his gaze warms her skin, and her happiness fills her up, she throws her arms around him, and kisses him again.

It's only with a fourteen-year-old gasp of horror that they pull apart. As she peers around Teddy's shoulder, she notices James standing at the compartment door, trunk in hand, with a look of pure shock and disgust on his face.

"What are you doing?" he gapes.

It's Teddy, with a confident grin, who responds. "Seeing Vic off," he says, with twinkling eyes. "Go away, James, I'd rather be snogging my girl."

At that, James turns around and runs in the other direction, clearly to spread the word. Victoire giggles.

"Now," Teddy says, with a grin. "Where were we?"

"I believe," Victoire smiles, "that you were 'snogging your girl.'"

"That's right," he murmurs, pulling her close, "I was."

As his lips brush hers, she can't help herself from whispering quietly, "I'm still going to miss you."

He pulls back slightly, to smile at her. "I'm going to miss you too. But it's only one year," he tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And after that, we've got the rest of our lives together."

His words send warmth through her body. And she knows it's going to be hard. They're going to fight and sometimes she'll storm out into the rain, because she's good at running away, and he'll slam doors because he's not good at compromising. There'll be nights they go to bed angry, and sometimes she'll cry or drink too much wine.

But she also knows that it'll all be worth it. She knows that they can make it. Because she knows that she loves him, and she knows that she won't give up. And she knows she can make it through one more year, because she knows she's got countless more that she'll spend by his side.

And right now she's only got a few minutes, and she's not going to waste them being afraid. So, with a smile, she whispers, "okay," and presses her lips to his.


End file.
